


Taken By Sleep

by comets_nix



Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Character Death, Death, Depressing, M/M, Sad, Trying to move on, kurt recovery, self hate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:02:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9793481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comets_nix/pseuds/comets_nix
Summary: A song-fic based on 'Taken By Sleep' by Tyler Joseph.Or, in which Angel didn't survive the crash, and Kurt is quite broken in trying to forgive himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> careful; don't listen to sad music while reading this...

_It just hit me as I laid my head down_  
No one around in the dark cold night, I hear a sound  
In my head repeat track of everything you’ve ever said  
Must be something, but it’s nothing, so I just go back to bed 

Kurt is thrown awake yet again. Another night full of nothing but nightmares and flashbacks of his angel burning away from him. Stripped from the world. All that fire; the ground-rattling rumble of the jet exploding in a hot ball of pure hell, taking his angel from him forever. What has he done!? He never should have fought the angel, back in Berlin. Because of Kurt, the angel is gone. Never to fly again.  
Kurt takes a breath in, telling himself that _'No, he was evil. He chose his path, I could not stop him. I did what I had to…’_ But Kurt knows that he is convincing no one with these sorry excuses. He knows that because of him, the angel is dead.  
He tries to clear his head, and looks at the clock. 3:43 AM. With a heavy breath, and tear filled eyes, Kurt lays back down on his sweat soaked pillow, and hides himself under the covers. He falls asleep to a racing heart and longing chest, his mind heavy as it chases the angel across his thoughts.  
Kurt never knew his name. But he knew he was better now, with his god high up above. _'The Lord will take care of you now, Engel. You did nothing wrong, mein freund. Es tut mir Leid.’_

_It’s 4, crack the door to the hallways in my dreams_  
But it seems my hallway keeps closing in on me  
Forcing me out, making me think about you and how you’re gone  
I see 4:05 in teary eyes and then I write this song 

The nights get harder for Kurt as time goes on. How rude time was, pushing him forward against his will in the never ending race that was life and earth. Kurt walked through his days with a coldness dragging in him; reminding him of the horrible sin he has committed. Why couldn’t he just stop and let himself fall away; slip from the grip of life to forget all the horrible things he has done?  
'You killed something beautiful,’ his mind tells him. Kurt wakes up each morning and sits on his bed, waiting for the sun to come up. He can hardly face the darkness behind his eye lids anymore, and now spends his nights sitting and thinking. The scene plays over again and again in his head- him being a coward and teleporting out of the jet without even thinking of waiting for the angel.  
Just one second. That was all he needed. And he had ignored it. What a fool he was, forgetting something so beautiful like that. Letting the metal machine rip a beautiful soul from the earth so easily.  
Kurt has killed the only angel he has ever known, and his mind will not let him forget.  
It is on the eleventh night after the death of what was Angel, that Kurt makes his way to the bathroom at exactly 1:20 AM. He turns the bright lights on, and takes out his razor and mirror.  
A shaky tail. Crying yellow eyes. Weak arms. Kurt carves the two giant, feathered wings across his back, staining the floor and rug with the crimson flow of past mistakes and deep regret.  
Kurt had always known he should save his back. Something told him- all his life: _'Leave your back alone, you'll need it later,’_ and it is as Kurt sits defeated on the floor of the tub, shower running cold over his marked skin, that his Lord must have had this planned for him. _'You had it coming. Now you must pay for it.’_ Kurt would tell himself.  
Kurt doesn’t sleep anymore. He lays awake- dreaming of his lost angel.

_And I just can’t believe it has to be this way_  
You know we say it seems to me that it was just the other day  
I saw your face, I saw your light, you ran the race, you fought the fight  
But now it’s all being torn down for me tonight 

Kurts friends start to see his pain showing through one month in after Apocalypse. Something isn’t quite right with their usual bright, happy Nightcrawler, but they never suspect the real reason as to why Kurt is now quiet, tired, skinny, and oddly pale.  
Kurt misses his angel. His lack of sleep has finally caught up with him, and he can no longer keep his eyes wide and alert, or his tail swaying with interest. Kurt lets himself fall apart; knows he deserves it. His back stings as it rises and scars. He is sure to keep his clothes thick, as not to disturb the angels symbols spread across his spine and shoulder blades.  
Was he really gone? Such a beautiful mutant, taken away that easily? _'Yes,’_ Kurt knows. _'He is gone because of me.’_ Kurt allows himself to be lost- lets the last part of himself fly off with the wind, up to his angel.

_And I know it might be a little selfish for me to say_  
But I need to know if you’ve thought of me at all today  
Cause every day walk past the place you lived 5 days of the week  
And now it’s 10 after 4 and I am taken by sleep 

Kurt is living because his angel never got a chance to. As much as he misses him- as much as he wants to take himself and give up so he can meet his Lord and the bladed angel once and for all- he keeps going.  
 _'You would have loved it here, Engel,’_ he thinks as he sits in the sun. For a moment, Kurt forgets that his friends are around him on the grass as they sit, and drifts off in thought to the angel he never knew. _'I can just see you up there now; you would have loved the sky here in New York…’_  
Jean hears him, and wonders. Why would Kurt care this much about the follower of Apocalypse that had nearly finished them off?  
It is then that she notices just how broken Kurt really is.

_Spending hours on end, deciding what I’d say to a friend if I ever saw him again_  
Cause I don’t if I know, don’t want to come across the wrong way  
And I don’t know if I know, but I know I want to see your face today 

On the third night of the second month after Apocalypse, Kurt writes to the angel. It is past midnight when he rises from his bed in failed efforts to sleep, and pulls out his journal. He opens the old leather book with heavy hands, his eyes watery and blurry as he is lost from the real world.  
 _'You could have had a home here, Engel. I know you didn’t seem like the family type when I met you, but this place grows on you. We would have forgiven you, you know. I guess it’s too late for that, though. I am sorry you lost your path. I am sorry you never got a chance like this- to start over._  
I’ll live for you, Engel. I will keep you alive inside my heart, and I promise that I will make up for all of the horrible things done to you. Know that at least one person on this planet you hated so much misses your wings.’ His German is sloppy as his hands can barely hold the pen, and he is just hardly hanging on to the real world awake.  
Kurt falls asleep after he is finished. He lays forward and rests his head on the hard book- drifting off into the empty darkness of his unconscious mind for the first time in weeks. The last thing he sees before his yellow eyes close is the wide, night sky, littered with countless stars. His angel would have looked beautiful against a sky like that. But he was up there, Kurt knew. He would wait for the angel, and meet him in the sky of Heaven when it is his time and the Lord has decided to bring Kurt home.  
Maybe then he could learn his name, and they could exchange stories for the rest of time in final peace.

_And somebody told me they saw you cry and break down_  
Do you know how hard that is to get around and think about?  
It’s not like you to let emotions get the best of things  
Especially when everything is hanging in the air we breathe 

It was silent the night the X Men show up at Kurts bedroom door, just minutes before 12 PM. The moon is full and bathes Kurts room in a pale blue glow as he sits on his bed, thinking. His mind had been plagued with dreams of flying white birds high above, in the sky of clouds. He didn’t know exactly what his god was trying to tell him, but he had woken calm and soft- so unlike his usual nightmares that threw him awake.  
When the knock sounds on his door, Kurt blinks his thoughts away and gets up, opening it with a smile.  
“Meine Freunde, vhat brings you here this late?” How great Kurt would be at putting on that white smile of fangs.  
Jean, Peter, Ororo, Scott, and Jubilee exchange looks, and let themselves in.  
And with a confused look and flick of his tail, Kurt is suddenly wrapped in a tight hug against Peters chest, followed by Scott, and then the others as they all find their place wrapped around Kurt.  
Kurt would know they had figured it out. And his tears would gather heavy and fast.  
 _“I’m so sorry…”_  
“I'ts not your fault, Kurt. You couldn’t have saved him. None of us could. And even if we could have, he would be too far gone, yeah?” Jean whispers in an uneven voice, somewhere close to his ear.  
Kurt nods, and lets his tears fall for the countless time. His lip quivers, and Peter is there to catch him as his knees give out and he goes down.  
How exhausted Kurt is; after months of missing his angel. Wondering how he is doing. Where his is. _'Would he have liked it here as much as I do?’_  
He sits with his friends that night, and lets himself go. He cries and cries- face flooded with the endless nights that have become his reality as he lets lose everything inside. He finally realizes how mad he is at the world. At himself, for ruining the angels beautiful wing. At Apocalypse for taking what should have been his, and destroying it. At the stupid jet and stupid war that took his angel with no care at all. And at his Lord, who knew this horrid fate awaited Kurt; and still let the blue boy grow so attached to something he knew would be taken from him.  
He has to remind himself that the angel can have what ever he wants now. No more fighting the world; he can rest his wings and get some rest himself. Was he watching Kurt right now? Was he glad someone cared about him this much? Has anyone ever cared about him like Kurt does now?  
And with his friends comforting words and soothing touches, Kurt finally lets himself believe that he has not lost his angel as much he thought he has.

_And I just can’t believe it has to be this way_  
You know we say it seems to me that it was just the other day  
I saw your face and saw your light, you ran the race, you fought the fight  
But now it’s all being torn down for me tonight 

_And I know it might be a little selfish for me to say_  
But I need to know if you thought of me at all today  
Cause every day walk past the place you lived 5 days of the week  
And now it’s 10 after 4 and I am taken by sleep 

_I’ll sing a song to you, my friend._

It takes Kurt three months to allow himself to completely move on- for the angel.  
He knew he would see him someday; however long it took. But for right now, he looks up at the sky, and keeps going. The angel was at peace, he knew. He would never have to fight again; his soul has finally been put to peace with the Lord. Kurt looks up at the white, towering clouds of the sky, and imagines his angel up there now. Flying in peace across the kingdom of blues and whites and strong, supporting wind. Kurt would wait. He would would wait for them both.  
 _Maybe Angel could teach him to fly when he gets up there._  
However long it takes, until he can see those rich blue eyes, and strong feathered wings once again, Kurt can take his time.  
 _“Um ihn kümmern, mein Herr.”_


End file.
